Last Respects
by Gary Merchant
Summary: This is an attempt to mesh together the seperate Ace histories in the books and the DWM strip


LAST RESPECTS  
  
She had forgotten how long she'd been standing at the graveside. In her lifetime the girl had seen many deaths - some necessary, others not so. But this was different. She couldn't bring herself to attend the service itself, and so waited until everyone had gone so that she could pay her own tribute.  
As she lay the wreath she looked once more at the inscription on the tombstone, hoping that the words might somehow explain why. Why was her own name on the stone while she was still very much alive?  
She barely heard the footfall behind her. "Hello, Ace."  
"I knew you'd be here", she replied without looking around.  
"How are you?"  
"How do you think?" Ace turned to face him. "She was me. From a parallel universe maybe, but still me." A thought suddenly struck her. "She could have been the sister I never had, and you never said a word." Ace turned away, looking back at the grave.  
"I couldn't tell you," the Doctor replied. "If the two of you had met, the result would have been similar to the Blinovitch Limitation Effect. No time difference, but the end would have been the same."  
"But how did it happen? How could there be two of us running around the universe?"  
The Doctor paused, choosing his words. "An alternative timeline occurs from the slightest change of events. Your leaving me on Heaven was enough to create the paradox. From that point a secondary time stream must have formed, allowing both of you to build your own lives. You had three years learning to be a space cadet, gaining knowledge of firearms unknown in your time. I think she. . . " the Doctor looked at the grave and his voice faltered for a moment. "In her time stream you continued travelling with me in the TARDIS. To begin with, the differences were minimal to start with, but basically you were both the same. By the time I realised the truth, the secondary time stream was too well established to break."  
  
Ace nodded, not quite taking it in, but accepting the explanation without question. It was easier that way. "How did she die?"  
The Doctor remembered, collecting his thoughts. "Of all things, it was a can of Nitro-Nine". He went on to relate his experiences concerning the Threshold and his battle against the Lobri. "She was too near the explosion to stand a chance," he concluded, "but her actions helped to prevent a major catastrophe".  
Ace couldn't think of a suitable reply. Her training as a soldier had prepared her for most things, but to be alive to see your own memorial. . . she could feel the tears welling up inside her, but she would not cry, she told herself. Then she looked at the Doctor, his face etched with pain and regret, and she knew. He understood. At that moment their last barriers broke down as they hugged each other and wept, united in their grief. For a few seconds, Ace was a frightened little girl, and the Doctor was an awkward, young student at the Academy, both unsure of their goals in life. Then the moment passed.  
  
*****  
  
"So what happens now?"  
The question had caught the Doctor by surprise. They had left the cemetery, walking slowly through the town, each lost in their own thoughts. "Hmm?"  
"I suppose you'll be off again in the TARDIS?"  
"For a little while," replied the Doctor. "Until my regeneration."  
Those last few words had thrown Ace. "What? I mean. . . are you sure?"  
"I'm afraid so," he confirmed. "I've been getting strange premonitions. Normally I wouldn't worry about it, but the images are so strong they cannot be ignored."  
The Doctor had told Ace about the concept of regeneration many times, but she was still unprepared for this revelation. "So, when will it happen?"  
"I don't know, but very soon."  
"So tell me about these images?"  
"I keep hearing music - Puccini, I think. And there's something about a clock. . . " The Doctor felt Ace's concern and smiled. "Don't worry. It'll turn out alright - I think." He frowned momentarily, then brightened. "Anyway, we'll see each other again in the future."  
"Or in the past, Professor," she replied, returning his smile. It had been a long time since he'd heard that nickname, and the Doctor was grateful for it.  
They walked on. A Time Lord and a Soldier, both heading toward new and uncertain times. 


End file.
